Double Entendre
by Adie Ornament
Summary: Ginny, an undercover journalist, hopes to make headlines everywhere. When scandal erupts around Draco's all-male quidditch team, it's up to her to get the scoop. Disguised as a male beater, she will face many dangers and the ever lurking double entendre.
1. Meet Winifred Geasley

Disclaimer: obviously, anything HP related gets credited to J.K.Rowling.

So, Adie's back. We're brainstorming a ton of stories. Like seriously, A LOT.

For all you Jane Austen fans, hopefully you will recognize a little something.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sneered. 

Of course he was in no mood to sign autographs and pose for pictures. Not that many people still wanted his.

He had just lost. Defeated for the first time in a very long time. He knew that this was to be the start of his bad luck, bad publicity, bad _everything._

All this talk about him, about the team – he could hardly breathe, let alone focus on Quidditch. The flashbulbs from the cameras seemed to haunt him – everywhere he went, everything he did, every time he even sneezed, he found a photo of himself in some tabloid of another.

He didn't deserve it.

As he trudged toward the team change rooms, his sneer became more and more angry.

Draco wasn't the only one wrapped up in scandal though. The entire team was surrounded by it. None of them had been able to escape the criticism, the comments or the harsh-reality of what had become of the once number one team in Britain.

They had cheated. They had lied. They had been completely and utterly disgraced.

Not Draco specifically, but his manager, a few select team-mates including his friend and mentor, Marcus Flint, no-named suspicious characters and a handful of referees most certainly had.

Almost at the change rooms, as he walked closer and closer, the cluster of photographers surrounding him became bigger and bigger. More flashbulbs went off, blinding him and making him recall the humiliating events that last month, had started the horrible debacle that Draco found himself in.

Marcus Flint, their star chaser; Warren Dubois, their keeper; Casey Warrington, their back up seeker and Gregory Hartford, the teams manager had all found themselves in separate pictures on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ in beyond suspicious situations. Handing money underneath tables while having lunch with referees, slipping bags of coins to shady figures behind broom sheds, caught with their pants down in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley with the lovely ladies of its nightlife and lastly, pictures of said players' houses filled with every Wizarding steroid there was.

"Draco! Would you care to comment on the recent doping scandal that's—"

"Draco! Care to talk about Marcus Flint's nightly playthings?"

"Mr Malfoy! Have you heard about your team manager's lastest—"

"Draco!"

"Draco!"

He couldn't last a second more. He made a mad dash to the change rooms and just collapsed onto the bench inside. Slowly, he caught his breath and tried to calm down. Pulling off his gear, he noticed that the once fun filled and cheerful group of team-mates that once used to celebrate in the change rooms were gone. Instead, a solemn and quiet group of strangers greeted him. They were the same faces he'd always known, but at the same time they were completely different.

No one wanted to talk.

Draco couldn't help but wonder how many of them had known. How many of them had indulged in the same pastimes as the others. And deep inside he knew that they were all thinking the same thing about him. Just like the entire Wizarding World.

As he stumbled, exhausted from the game they had just played against the Montrose Magpies, towards the showers, he knew that not even a shower was going to wash away every last speck of dirt that tarnished him.

XxXxXxXxXX

"Ginny! _Ginny!_" A very angry Colin Creevey had already searched high and low for his journalist partner. But like always, she was nowhere to be found. She was going to make him miss what could be the best scoop of their lives. "Ginny! I swear, Merlin knows I swear, that once I find you, I'm going to take this camera and—"

"And take a picture of me smiling victoriously while struggling to keep a hold of all of the journalism awards I've just won."

"No, that's not what I was going to say," said Colin, still frowning. "Besides, you've yet to win a single award, Gin."

"Oh, but I will. I've just gotten a tip. A tip on Draco Malfoy. I know where he's going to be alone, and then we'll corner him Colin. We'll corner him and damn well force the interview out of him."

Colin sighed. His co-worker had, like every other writer out there, been completely hung-up on the Quidditch scandal of the century. The Pemberley Phoenixes' team scandal and every single newspaper in Europe wanted to get that first interview with seeker Draco Malfoy before anyone else. Meanwhile, Colin just wanted to do the assignment he'd been asked to do, take a couple of pictures, get paid and go home. All this running about town with Ginny searching for Draco and searching for tips was going to get him fired. And that was the last thing he needed.

"No, Gin. We're going to the Ministry. The Minister of Environment has just dropped a total bombshell – it's the latest scandal. Everyone else is heading towards the Ministry for a press conference and we have _got to be there_! Ginny, tomorrow, everyone will be so absorbed about reading this guy's interview with _us_ that they'll have totally forgotten about the Pemberley Phoenixes." He started fiddling with the odd knobs and bobs on his camera and heaved another sigh. "Enough is enough, Gin. That story is done."

But Ginny wasn't listening. She waved her hand about, as if shooing the Ministry topic out of the building's front door. "Oh who cares about Mr. Pompous What's-His-Face? Everyone will be so completely absorbed with that story that no one else will be around dogging Malfoy. He'll be strictly ours. And when we finally get that interview, where he admits everything and anything, we'll be the envy of every journalist and photographer in the country."

She grabbed her Quick Quotes Quill, her notebook, a pair of sunglasses and her trench coat and then rushed out of the front door. Colin, however, didn't. After a minute, when she must've realized that Colin was running off behind her, Ginny's head popped up in the doorway.

"We're going to _miss him_ if you don't hurry up! C'mon Mr. Sulkypants, stop looking so glum. You know I'm right!"

Turning around to face her, Colin, she realized, still hadn't turned that frown of his upside down. "I can't, Gin, I just can't. We'll be fired. We've already been reprimanded more times than I can count for not sticking to our assignments and for going off on Malfoy-hunting excursions instead. I haven't been paid in ages, Ginny and working here at _The Wizarding Times_ is the best gig I've ever had." He crossed his arms and looked at her hard. "Either you come with me and do this interview with the _Minister_ or you find yourself a new photographer and partner."

Ginny smiled a sad smile. "I'm sorry Colin but- this is _the_ story." Waving goodbye, she disappeared round the corner.

Bugger. Me and my big mouth, thought Colin going down a different street. Preparing his camera and taking a deep breath, he pushed himself into the throng of dozens of other photographers outside the Ministry of Magic.

XxXxXxXxXX

_Just breathe, in and out. No one will ever know, only when it's too late will they see that Ginny Weasley, journalist extraordinaire, pulled one right over their heads_. With a grin rivalling that of the cheshire cat, the petite redhead strode through the locker room doors. _Just breathe._

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Eau de extremely-sweaty-Quidditch-players. It was only after her eyes had stopped watering did she notice the actual players. Staring right at her. In towels. Dripping wet. Bugger.

Gregory Hatford approached her first. He was a large man, having clearly eaten more than his share of the pies, with an oily handlebar moustache that matched the comb over that desperately tried to hide an enormous bald spot. Ginny disliked him on sight. Choking back tears after getting a whiff of the generous amount of cologne he wore, she decided to speak.

"Er…Hi. My name is Geasley. Winfred Geasley." She nearly grimaced but, managed to keep her composure. Ginny knew it was a terrible name but, she needed a simple alias, one easy enough to remember. Along with the new name, she had come up with a rather cunning disguise. Ginny deemed herself to be unrecognizable. In place of her long, firey locks, she wore a short brown wig. She had used a simple transfiguration spell that managed to turn her eyes a rich chocolate colour. Unfortunately, she could do nothing about her height or freckles without pulling a Moody- drinking from a flask every hour seemed silly. She might as well just write **SUSPICIOUS **on her forehead in big,bold letters.

"Willfred, my boy! Mind if I call you Will?" Ginny nearly missed the question, too distracted by the generous amount of spittle that flew in every direction.

"Well, actually me name is Winfred. Win-"

"Great." He thumped her on the back. Hard. She stumbled forward nearly smashing into Marcus Flint who, she noticed, still hadn't fixed his rotting teeth even with the amount of money he made per game. Hatford's booming voice echoed in the room. "Get some meat on yer bones boy! You're a beater and you best be beating balls out there! I don't want you getting knocked around by some gust o' wind."

Ginny was about to give a rather witty retort and then subtly ask him about the scandal but, she found herself to be completely ignored. Hatford and Flint were deep in conversation near the doorway. Trying to hear over all the other voices in the locker room proved to be an extremely difficult task and without being able to stand right next to them, she only heard fragments of their conversation. Something about keeping a deal _hush hush_. Before she could listen in on anything else, their discussion ended. Abruptly. Both of them looked furious. _Curious, if only I'd been able to hear anything else!_ Feeling a bit angry with herself, she watched as Hatford made his way to the exit. Ginny wondered if he would even fit through the frame, but, he managed to inch his way out and slam the door behind him. _What a charming man._ Not.

"Listen up." Ginny raised her head, staring at the speaker who she recognized all too well. His blonde hairstyle still hadn't changed after all these years, along with the cold grey eyes and the permanent sneer. He was taller though, about as tall as her brother Ron and, he was no longer the skinny, pale boy from the Hogwarts years but filled out his Quidditch uniform and stood proudly while clutching his Firebolt 2006 in his gloved hand. "We've got a lot to prove this year and, while Flint and some other players are on probation, I'll be your captain." Ginny noticed that most of the players looked pleased upon hearing this news. Only Flint seemed to find this announcement unappealing. Understandably so. "When you get out on the pitch this morning, you better forget all about the scandal that is taking place. I want you to be focused and there will be zero tolerance for those slacking off. Now then, get your broom and tackle out- " This was met by laughter and a round of applause.

_Oh Merlin_, she thought, _you can't say anything here without some dreadful double entendre lurking round the corner._

Draco smiled and held up his hand, waiting for them to settle down. "You know what I mean. Now, I expect all of you to be out on the field in five minutes." Clearly finished with his speech, he exited the locker room, heading out the door that led onto the pitch.

Hurriedly, Ginny grabbed her gear and made for the sole washroom cubicle. Somehow she was able to change even though her mind was racing at a million thoughts a second. She couldn't believe that they hadn't realized that she was in fact a _she_ at first sight. That gave Ginny a boost of most needed confidence. She had been nervous before, but that feeling was gone, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and excitement. It seemed ages since she had played Quidditch and she could only hope she wasn't rusty.

Checking to see if while putting on her uniform she had addled her wig – no – she began to formulate the second part of her plan.

No, she thought hastily, no time. She was supposed to be out there already, tackle out – ew, no, she grimaced at the phrase. What she meant was, she was suppose to be out there already, mounted on her – no, she thought quickly, best just not to think at all. Finally, ridding her mind of any innuendo, she finally stopped what she was doing and paused, congratulating herself on managing to infiltrate the team like a true professional.

She smirked one last smirk, still disbelieving that she was here, _undercover_! She felt like a real journalist.

Speeding out of the cubicle, she tossed her bags into her new locker, grabbed her broom and hurried onto the field.

* * *

Hope you loved it.

Love, Adie Ornament


	2. Bludger to the Head

_Wow! When Adie gets back to work, she __**really**__ gets back to work! This is the third chapter we've done this week. Hopefully you enjoy this one – we've tried to tie up a lot of loose ends from the first chapter and we're satisfied with the end result._

_Thanks to all those who enjoy and review our stories! We love you!_

_-Adie_

* * *

**Bludger to the Head**

XxXxXxXxXx

Practice had been gruelling so far. The conditions were horrible, rain, wind, even some thunder off in the not-so-far distance. Ginny swept her arm across her eyes trying to get rid of some of the water which ran down her face. However, her attempts proved futile and, settling herself back into position once more on her broom, she kicked off from the ground and soared up into the dark sky, bat in hand.

She was used to playing with boys; however, playing literally as one of the boys was a bit more difficult. It was nerve-wracking, every movement felt as though she was giving herself away. But, by trying to move more like a guy she was hurting her form. It didn't help either that beater was her worst position, and the bat was already feeling heavy in her hand. Of course, the fact that she hadn't been on a broom since her Hogwarts days made her all the more sluggish. She groaned. _Why does Malfoy have to play for the only all men's team in the league_? Ginny thought to herself as she whacked another bludger away. Though it hadn't always been that way, the Pemberley Phoenixes now ran under a no women clause. Gregory Hatford thought the less distractions, the better his team would play. Clearly he didn't take into account the repercussions that would take place off the field after such little interaction with the opposite sex. Flint was a prime example, uncouth, misogynistic and all over foul, it was he who had been caught down in Knockturn Alley with a female companion. Ginny snorted at that last thought. 

It was then she noticed the bludger shooting towards her, a red missile which was about to collide into her face. Forgetting the bat, she dived to the ground, allowing the bludger to whack Warrington in the back of his head and right off his broom. Ginny stared realizing what she had done. Her journalism career crumbled before her as she noticed Malfoy flying her way. Ginny had a feeling he wasn't coming to congratulate her on her fine form. In fact, she was quite sure the dread which had filled up inside her, meant that she was about to be sacked. And after one practice! It had to be some sort of record. 

"Geasley, what the hell do you think you're doing? Perhaps no one explained to you how to play the game. See, it's the beater's, you in this case, job to take this bat," Malfoy grabbed the bat from her and swung it expertly at an oncoming bludger, "and hit the bludger." He handed the bat back to her. Ginny, having not been able to meet his eyes before this, finally looked up. He was absolutely furious, and she wondered in amazement how he managed to keep as much composure as he did. "What you're not supposed to do is turn tail and leave it to hit one of my best players in the head!" Ginny winced.

She wanted to ask for a little slack – desperately – considering it was her first day, but she realized that in the league of Quidditch she was in...there were no second chances. Well, not for bad beating at least. Selling drugs, hiring prostitutes and paying referees, however, seemed perfectly a-ok with the Pemberley Pheonixes, she thought grumbling. 

Still though, she could feel the tears threatening to spill. No, she thought, as she wiped at them furiously, you're a guy! Guys don't cry in front of other guys. Neither do you Ginny Weasley, she berated herself. Time to toughen up. Still, she was definitely going to apologize to Warrington later. She could see him out of the corner of her eye nursing a heavily bleeding nose. She did feel awful about that.

She nodded her head at Malfoy, who she realized she had just left there waiting for her reply. He must've thought Winfred was incredibly slow as she'd just been lost in her thoughts for about five minutes.

Clearing her voice, in what she imagined to be a gruff manner, she spoke. "Rightio, Captain. Will do. Or rather, will not do. Will not duck out of way. Again. Will not do that." Was that her speaking, she yelled at herself. She sounded like a blithering idiot! She'd better wrap it up. "I promise not to let Warrington beat balls with his face again."

The field went silent. Ginny's mouth dropped in horror at what she had just said. She looked over to Warrington who was looking at her incredulously, a murderous look in his eyes. 

Ginny! She thought. When will you learn to _think _before you speak? 

She hoped desperately her face wasn't as red as it felt. She looked at Malfoy who had the most confused expression on his face. It looked like a cross between anger and trying not to burst out laughing. "Geasley, I think you've caused enough damage for one day, I think you better go get changed." With that he propelled his broom back into the on-going scrimmage which had resumed only seconds ago. Ginny, wet, cold and humiliated flew down to the pitch where Warrington was being strapped to a stretcher, knocked out. With one last look at the pitch, Ginny, head low, trudged into the change room.

Her wet clothes clung to her body and made it all the more difficult to strip from her body. The warm water from the shower did little to lift her mood and it was all too soon she had to jump out and change once she heard Malfoy's booming voice saying practice was over. She scurried out of the change room before another opportunity arose in which she could make a complete ass out of herself. 

The exit doors from the stadium were so close now, a couple of meters more and she would be free to go wallow in her misery at home. But, before she could go any farther she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, an enormous figure sitting hunched over on the bench. She tried to ignore him but, it looked suspiciously like Warrington. It was then he looked up and caught her starring. Yup, she thought, it's definitely Warrington. The plaster that covered his face was a dead giveaway.

"Er, hey, Warrington. How's the...umm..." She caught herself staring at the enormous nose cast he was sporting. "...broken nose?"

"Really, Geasley, this little thing? Why, it's nothing. What's a couple of broken bones to me?" Strangely, his light-hearted tone did not reach his eyes. "It's not like I was using my nose or anything."

Ginny's heart just plummeted. She knew she was there for journalistic purposes but she had had the faint girlish hope of perhaps making a couple of friends among her teammates. This obviously was not a very good start.

"I'm so sorry about that. I really, truly am. Do you think that there's anything I can do to make it up to you?" Ginny was sincere. She only hoped that Warrington could see that. She could imagine him taking advantage of what she had just said and making her his slave for the week or using her face for target practice. It's what she, after all, would have done in his position.

Instead, he just looked at her with a strange expression on his face, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You say that strangest things sometimes, Winfred Geasley..."

Ginny could feel her eyebrows nearly shoot off of her forehead and the sweat starting to build along her hairline. Or rather, wig-line. She nervously started to chuckle, trying to deepen the sound of her voice although she could feel her voice threatening to crack. "What makes you say that?"

Warrington, surprisingly, laughed. "Oh, nothing. And I _really, truly_ forgive you for the whole practice today. And I'll let you off easy this time. You don't have to do a thing to make it up to me. If I can't handle a broken nose, then I might as well just quit the sport now."

Ginny let out a nervous laugh, hoping it would conceal the huge sigh of relief she had let out simultaneously. Really? Truly? Had she honestly said that? She made the most unconvincing guy! She really needed to go home to the Burrow this weekend and spend some time with her brothers. She badly needed to work on her male vocabulary.

"Way to, uh, take it like a man, Warrington. That's very manly of you to suck it up like that. Mankind should be proud." Ginny gave herself a pat on the back. That was much better boy-talk. Perhaps, she thought, if she said guy-related words around her teammates, they would subconsciously start thinking of Ginny whenever they heard them, therefore never finding out her secret! Merlin, she was good.

Warrington just gave her a strange look. "Yeah... So, I'm assuming you'll be back for practice again tomorrow? Malfoy hasn't frightened you off yet?"

"Unless Malfoy turns into a big furry spider sometimes soon, I don't think he'll be frightening me off anytime soon." She let out what she thought was a very good guffaw. 

Warrington let out an awkward chuckle. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Ginny grew nervous. How do boys say goodbye to each other? Kissing each other on the cheek or hugging seemed rather out of the question, whenever she tried to do that to her brothers they looked like they were going to hurl. And then, enlightenment, she remembered exactly what to do. "Bring a helmet next time man." She gave him a punch to the chest and a slap to the butt and made her grand exit. Smugly, she walked out of Pemberly Stadium feeling accomplished. She almost laughed at how easy it was to be a guy. Soon, her story was going to make headlines everywhere. Tomorrow's practice, she'd get down to business with Malfoy. Journalism business, she corrected.

Warrington, however, looked at her retreating back with disbelief. Not only was that Winifred the strangest guy he'd ever met, but, after that slap to the butt... Well, things were going to get very interesting.

XxXxXxXxXx

Ginny walked at a brisk pace until she found herself in the back alley of a street parallel to the Quidditch stadium. Perfect, she thought. Ginny, looked around suspiciously, making sure that nobody had followed her there. She went to the end of the alleyway and peeked around the corner to look at the main street. It was empty. Setting her training bag on the ground, she unzipped it and let out a deep breath. 

She pulled off the wig – it was not nearly as itchy as she thought it was going to be – and shoved it in the bag. Then, she let her hand drag along the bottom of the bag until her fingers hooked onto a seemingly random piece of string. She pulled it upwards to reveal a secret compartment which held everything she needed to transform back into Ginny Weasley.

Ginny pulled out the comb and quickly brushed her long hair, paying particular attention to the knotted tangles which seemed to result from wearing the wig. Then she picked out a shiny green compact and her wand, changing her eye colour back to normal. She checked the compact to make sure she had performed the spell correctly. Yep. She made sure to check it every time. The first time she'd tried to do it, she'd ended up with one eye glued shut and a pair of very overgrown eyebrows. 

Then, and she double checked again to see that no one was around, she quickly stripped out of her training gear and pulled on a jean skirt and a blue t-shirt. She wasn't normally one to wear skirts or dresses but after having to disguise herself as a boy, she wanted to feel as feminine as she could. Also, she'd promised her boyfriend, Roger Davis, that she'd pop 'round after work.

He didn't know quite yet that she was playing Quidditch and dressing up as a male beater professionally nowadays but she thought she'd tell him sooner or later. Or rather never, for that matter. 

Pulling out a large umbrella as well, she left the cover of the alleyway and made her way down to Roger's, whose apartment was only a few blocks down. It was while she was strolling, avoiding large puddles and ducking in and out of shop ways, that she began to think about the couple of days leading up to her arrival as the newest member of the Pemberley Phoenixes. It had all begun to become a reality during a chat with her good friend Luna Lovegood. 

_"So, let me get this straight, you're going to a try out for the Pemberley team this afternoon?" Luna looked at her, one eyebrow raised and bright green spectacles low on the bridge of her nose._

_Ginny nodded vehemently, excited for the tryouts which were looming forward. "That's the plan."_

_"Sounds good to me, well, aside from the one teeny tiny little flaw in your plan. I mean, really, it's only a detail but, the Pemberley Pheonixes happen to be an all male team." Ginny looked at Luna confused. "Ginny, you're not a guy."_

_Laughing Ginny replied. "Luna, surprisingly, I know that. Trust me though, I have this all figured out. Look at this." Ginny reached into her purse which was slung over the chair. She rummaged around for a while until dramatically flourishing a cropped brown wig. Luna just stared at it, still not quite comprehending. "It's my disguise."_

_"It's a wig Ginny, I think it's going to take more than that."_

_Ginny waved her hand, dismissing the thought. "Not to worry, you've forgotten about my brilliant acting skills."_

_Luna rolled her eyes. "Yes, how could I forget those." It was more of a mumble but Ginny still shot her a rather offended look. "Fine, so what if it does work, let's say they do fall for your disguise. Well, how do you plan on making the team? It's not as if you've ever played beater before and I'm sure the guys you're trying out with are going to be quite the experts in the area."_

_Ginny shrugged her shoulders. The thought had occurred to her, that maybe she might not make the team. But, she remained confident. "I'm just hoping the scandal has created enough of a stir that a lot of players won't want to try out." Besides, it turned out the the Harpies were having their tryouts today as well, a team with a bitter rivalry with Pemberley._

_Luna had that glint in her eye, something that meant a truly ridiculous idea was coming up. "Well, we could always ensure your position on the team."_

_"Please, do tell." It was deadpanned but, Ginny knew what was coming up - another harebrained plan which may or may not result in time spent at Azkaban. "I should probably get going soon though, else I'll miss the lunch before the tryouts."_

_A smile now accompanied that evil glint. "Even better. Here's the plan, we kidnap one of the chefs at this luncheon, steal his clothes and then you pretend to be the chef. You will then take this vial," Luna produced from her person a small vial filled with greyish liquid. Ginny didn't even bother asking what it was or why she was carrying it around. "Place a couple of drops into each dish and then make your exit. I'll be waiting in the back alley with a change of clothes for you. If everything goes according to plan, all the other players will come down with some... gastro-intestinal problems." Luna waited to hear what Ginny thought of her ingenious plan. Unfortunately, her friend didn't think much of it._

_"Luna, I'm not going to give twenty some players a bad case of diarrhea. I'll stick to my original plans I think, but, thanks for the suggestion." Ginny stood up, and slung her equipment over her shoulders. Flashing a smile at Luna, she waved goodbye. "Wish me luck," she called and disappeared behind the corner._

Ginny smiled to herself. Luckily, Luna's plans hadn't been necessary, though, the tryouts hadn't gone as smoothly as she wished. 

_Nervously clutching her duffel bag, she walked onto the pitch. She was wearing a striped Quidditch shirt and grey sweatpants. And, of course, she thought patting her head, her little brown wig. She thought she looked rather cute...in a very manly, rugged way, of course._

_She could feel the stares of every player there. Was she exposed already? She hadn't even spoken, hadn't even mounted her broom! Was it her walk that gave her away? She mentally cursed. Damn, she knew she should've practiced her walk more! She turned it into what she thought was a boyish swagger but the stares still didn't stop._

_"Hey guys!" She said swaggering over towards a group of tall, muscular, athletic looking men. Was this her competition? Merlin, she was so screwed. "What's up, fellas? Can't wait to mount up and get this wicked piece of equipment between my thighs." _

_All of them slyly exchanged glances before bursting out laughing and clapping Ginny on the back. "You're trying out for the beater position, little man?" One man bellowed in a thick accent. Everyone started to laugh harder. She was such a joke._

_Maybe, however, Ginny thought, brain racing. She could easily use this to her advantage. She knew she was small but she'd been a wicked chaser at school and a damn good flyer. If they underestimated her, she'd be flying circles around them in no time._

_Ginny laughed with them. "Yeah, isn't it just hilarious? I know I don't stand a chance, but I thought that I might as well give it a shot." They laughed along with her as they waited for the team to appear and the tryouts to start._

_After a few minutes of idle chatter with the other guys – well, mainly them making fun of her height – Gregory Hatford, Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint and the rest of the players idly made their way to the pitch. They came to a halt in front of Ginny and the area where the other wannabe beaters had congregated to._

_Ginny felt her cheeks burn as the Pheonixes sized her up. She knew what they were all thinking – too small, too runty to be a beater. If she could prove that she was a good player, she figured she could get by with her...less than adequate beater skills. _

_"Right, let's get down to business," Gregory Hatford announced. He proceeded to divide them into two groups and then, to the astonishment of Ginny, he and the other players left. Instead, a group of assistants came out to judge them. _

_They put them through about a hundred different gruelling trials and to the bitter disappointment of Ginny, she realized that she was far from being the best flyer there. If anything, she was mediocre at best. And as for her beating skills...pathetic. She'd hit her own face more times than the bludgers and she'd sent one flying towards one of the judging officials who, for a man of around sixty, had wonderful reflexes and had ducked._

_However, at the end of the tryout, she'd been the last one standing. She watched as the team's mediwitches carried the entire group of beaters off the field, all thanks to her awful aim. Though technically, a beater's job was to take out the other players, it hadn't been the point in __**any **__of the drills today but one by one (and by complete accident), she'd injured every other player to the point where everyone would rather be sent to St. Mungo's than spend another minute on the pitch with her._

_Ginny let out a wide grin as she was declared the official beater for the Pemberley Pheonixes. She didn't even care that she'd gotten it by default. She was Ginny Weasley, beater extraordinaire. _

Yes, Ginny mused, it was certainly a tryout not many would forget (unless of course, due to memory lapses brought on by a bludger to the head). 

The rain had let up a bit by now and Ginny was nearly at Roger's place, her on-and-off boyfriend of the last few months. It would be good to see him again. Hopefully he'd be able to take her mind off of Quidditch, Malfoy and Warrington for a little while...

Roger opened the door, sporting his Harpies shirt. "Hey Gin, what's the latest on the Phoenixes scandal?" He eagerly shuffled her into his apartment.

...but maybe that was asking a bit much of the guy.

* * *

_This was the __**longest **__chapter we've ever written! It's huge! We'd also like to send out an absolutelyhuge apology who read this story two years ago and had to wait all this time for the second chapter alone! _

_We'll try to update again as soon as possible. We've got a lot in mind for this story... _


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